to do with the arrow?" he said in a boastful tone.
"That is my weapon. I have just proved it by slaying the terrible
monster. Come, Cupid, give up the bow which rightfully belongs to me."

Now, Cupid was a very quick tempered little god, and he cried in a
passion, "Though your arrow may pierce all other things, my arrow can
wound you." Then he flew off in a very bad humor, and tried to think
of some way in which he could make Apollo feel which of them was a
better marksman.

By and by, he came to a grove in which a beautiful nymph, Daphne, was
wandering. This was just what Cupid wanted. He shot an arrow of lead
into her heart, and the nymph felt a cold shiver run through her. She
looked up to see what had happened, and caught a glimpse of Apollo's
golden garments above the tree-tops.

Cupid saw him at the same instant, and, quick as a flash, he planted a
golden arrow in Apollo's heart. Then he flew away, satisfied.

The golden arrow did its work only too well. No sooner had the sun-god
caught a glimpse of the beautiful nymph, Daphne, than he began to feel
a deep love for her. And, just as quickly, Daphne had been made to
fear Apollo, and turned and fled from him into the woods.

Apollo followed Daphne in hot haste, calling to her not to be afraid
and not to run so fast, for fear she might hurt herself on the thorns
and brambles. At last he cried, "Do not try to run from me. I love
you, and will do you no harm. I am the great sun-god Apollo!"

But Daphne was only the more terrified at these words and fled more
swiftly, while Apollo still pursued her. He had almost reached her
side, when she stretched out her arms to her father, the god of the
river, along whose banks she was fleeing.

"Oh, father," she cried, "help me! Either let the earth open and
swallow me, or so change this form of mine that Apollo will not love
me."

Hardly had Daphne finished her plea, when her limbs grew heavy, and a
thin bark began to cover her flesh. Her hair changed to green leaves,
her arms to slender branches, and her feet, which had borne her along
so swiftly, were now rooted to the ground. Her father had answered her
plea. Daphne, the nymph, was changed into a laurel tree.

When Apollo saw that his beautiful Daphne had become a tree, he threw
his arms about the newly-formed bark and cried, "Since you cannot be
my wife, fair Daphne, at least you shall be my tree, my laurel. Your
leaves shall be used to crown the heads of the victo